A Journey North
by WorldEnoughAndTime1
Summary: My written interpretation of the scene where Jaime Lannister begins his journey North after abandoning Cersei. [ONESHOT] This is my first fic!


Without a second thought Jaime seized the reins of his horse and rode hastily through the cobbled streets of the city, Widow's Wail on his belt. He wore simple riding leathers, a heavy black cloak and a plain glove equipped on his left hand. His golden hand rested awkwardly at his abdomen, incongruous with the rest of his attire. He had become so accustomed to wearing his heavily ornamented Lannister armour that he felt bare without it, as if he had been freed of shackles that held him under deep, cold water, binding him to the duties of his house.

Jaime's heart hammered inside his chest as he rode, his limbs numb with the shock and the pain and the incessant lies. He should have known Cersei had been devising an alternate plan and never intended to send troops North. They all saw that beastly _thing_ at the dragon pit. How could his sister be so blind? So intoxicated with power that she could not see beyond her own desires? He furrowed his brow in frustration and hurt. He was a fool to think she could ever revert to the sweet sister he had once loved, that at last he could be the father he had always longed to become. He had held onto that hope for too long; she had enticed him with her empty promises and now he would have to pay for his role in spreading her treachery. No more would he be her puppet coming to her beck and call in a war she could not hope to single-handedly triumph.

His thoughts went to Brienne, her words at the dragon pit surfacing once more to the forefront of his mind. "Fuck loyalty!" she had retorted, the woman whose moral principles centred around loyalty and oaths. He remembered her sapphire eyes staring wildly at him as she grabbed his arm. He knew the wench was right. He had to ride North to join the fight for the living alongside her, to fight with honour.

As Jaime approached the city gates, Lannister guards stood sentinel on either side, each with a hand stationed at the hilt of their swords. He jerked the reins of his mount and pulled up directly in front of them. "Open the gates!" he demanded. The guards hesitated and glanced at one another perplexedly. "Now!" Jaime exclaimed. One of the guards reached for the lever, and with a jolt the ironclad gates began to lift. The instant there was enough space to fit underneath, he kicked his horse forwards and broke into a brisk gallop, leaving King's Landing behind him.

* * *

Jaime travelled across rolling hills sparsely decorated with stunted shrubs just outside of the city, the ground dry and uneven beneath him. The hooves of his horse kicked up sprays of dirt as he rode. He was careful to avoid the kingsroad for he could not risk recognition by passers-by, nor could he be certain that Cersei hadn't ordered her guards after him.

His golden hand was cold against his stump, sending goose flesh up his arm. For a moment he considered discarding it, the damned thing had proven to be very cumbersome after all, but dismissed the thought. He gently tugged the bridle of his mount and reached for the other leather glove strapped to the saddle. As he adjusted the glove onto his hand, a snowflake drifted onto it, glinting in the pale light. He stared in brief bewilderment until it dissipated. An icy breeze graced his cheeks and lightly dishevelled his hair as he glanced towards the overcast sky. Large billowing clouds loomed overhead, the edges creeping eerily into the valley below. A steady flurry of snow began to fall.

Jaime had seldom seen weather like this so close to King's Landing and a sudden wave of disquiet washed over him. Of course, it was not unheard of for it to snow in the city, but this was different. He could sense that it was different. The dead are coming, though he would never have believed it before now, and it is clear they will show mercy to no man. So with a rush of determination, Jaime clutched the reins tighter between his fingers and continued onward, not once looking back.


End file.
